Page 79 of Always Beth
She forces the palms of her hands into her eyes, suppressing her tears. ‘Of course I will.’
As I pull the door to a soft close behind me, I wait momentarily, knowing I’m only adding to my own torture. A sob echoes in the hallway and I squeeze my eyes shut before I walk slowly up the path.
Beth
It’s been days since James was last here. But there hasn’t been a single one that’s passed when I haven’t checked in on them. It’s selfish of me, but I’m too afraid to visit, unable to prepare myself for how she might be; she was so frail the last time I saw her so I can’t imagine that much has changed. I’ve been at the kitchen table now for hours, my blog has received so much traction over the last few weeks, but all of a sudden my ideas for fresh new content has all but dried up. My mind has been firmly elsewhere, in a cottage minutes from my own. The blank screen in front of me taunts my insecurities. Will I ever be able to have the career I once dreamed of? A career I put on hold for a man who didn’t love me. I slam the laptop closed and sink further into the chair. Today, like every other day this week, is officially a write-off. My phone vibrates across the table, and I peer at the screen, faced with a number I don’t recognise.
Unknown: Beth, it’s Lauren. Sorry to ask, but since you’re so good at crumbles (not that I got a look in, my brother’s a gannet.) I was wondering if you could make a birthday cake for us. We’re forty on Saturday. Please don’t say anything to James, he isn’t coping well. I think he found a grey hair.
Unknown: No need for candles. Serious fire risk.
They’re forty.
I think about her message for a second. I think James could wake up completely grey and get over it, but the idea of facing your final birthday with your twin is probably harder to come to terms with.
A birthday cake though? It’s a bit outside of my usual baking repertoire. I pull my laptop back towards me and search for recipes. If it was anyone else, I’d say no, but for them…
Beth: Of course, birthday girl, I’ve got this.
James
‘Is he gone?’
Lauren’s fury echoes through the cottage, and I swallow hard, watching the doctor reversing slowly from the driveway.
‘He’s gone.’ My chest deflates as I turn to find her halfway down the staircase. ‘What are you doing? You heard him, he said—’
‘I’m getting up. It’s my bloody birthday tomorrow, I’m not lying around in bed, hooked up to morphine. I can’t believe you called him.’
Stumbling, she misses the final stair and tumbles into me, and it’s like a soft breeze in comparison to the whirlwind I’m used to.
‘Steady, this is why you should be in bed, the nurse will say the same thing later.’
‘No, James.’ Her eyes glisten and for a moment I see my fear reflecting from her, because it’s not just mine, or hers, it’s ours.
‘Do you want a piggyback?’ I force out, holding back my emotion.
‘Hell yeah.’
As I wander through the cottage, the warm air from the garden hits us and today of all days it seems only right that we should spend it together relaxing. Sliding Lauren gently to the lounger, I lie opposite, allowing the rays to wash over me.
Turning on to her side, she reaches out to tap me. ‘You’ll look after Dick, won’t you?’
Dick.He didn’t even cross my mind. He’s definitely grown on me. I can’t believe we’ve both reached the age of forty and neither of us are settled or have kids and the only thing she can ask of me is to take care of her dachshund. ‘He’s going straight to Battersea,’ I say dryly.
The sharp cry of his bark haunts me from the cottage and for a second I almost feel guilty. I could never re-home him, he’s my partner in crime.
‘Do you think he heard me?’ I sit bolt upright and Lauren giggles softly as she watches the panic spread across my face.
‘His ears may be big, but his hearing’s not that good. No, I think something else is up.’
‘Like what?’
She shrugs and smiles. ‘Why don’t you go and find out, birthday boy?’
I squeeze my eyes shut and rub my brow, unable to hide my grin. This is typical of her. I knew she was up to something the second the doctor left the house.
As I reach the hallway, I spot Beth’s outline through the frosted-glass window next to the door and it’s clear she isn’t empty handed. I stop abruptly as I reach for the handle and run my hand through my hair, pausing quickly to check my breath. God only knows how long she’s been out here, I can’t keep her waiting any longer.
